Not With Haste
by Louis Rene
Summary: Castiel is cast down from Heaven. He is now human and must learn how to adapt into his new Hunter's life. Will Dean be able to help him deal with the new, intense emotion he is now coping with? Destiel in later chapters. M to be sure and for later smut. No particular timeline. R&R Please!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, it's setting or any characters. They belong to Eric Kripke.

Author's not: First Supernatural Fiction ever. Don''t judge me too harshly. Rated M for graphic sexual content. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Cas/Dean

Your eyes they tie my down so hard.  
I'll never learn to put up a guard.  
So keep my love, my candle bright.  
Oh learn me hard, oh learn me right.

Castiel, the Angel of Thursday, Soldier of Heaven, hit the ground with a sickening thud that sucked the air out of his vessel's lungs. Gasping for air, he looked up at the clouds surrounding the bright sun. As he managed to gasp in a few breaths, he searched frantically for his cell phone and flipped it open. There were only three numbers and the one in the middle would be his best bet.

It only rang twice before Cas heard a gruff and short "Hello?" come from the other end of the line.

"Hello, Dean."

"Cas?!" His voice went from annoyed to concerned quickly. "Cas, where are you, man?"

"Dean, I'm injured. I'm not quite sure where I am." When his body recovered a bit, he struggled to his knees, looking around. He was in a cemetery. Dragging his crippled body over to the entrance, he read the sign. "Yankton Cemetery."

"Yangkton?!" He sounded mildly surprised. "We shouldn't be too long, Cas. Hang in there, kay?" When there was a long moment of silence, he added another "Kay?"

"Dean?" The hunter sighed in relief as he heard the voice respond. But his throat nearly closed when he heard what followed it. "Dean, I can't feel my grace..." There was a small choking sound. "Everything hurts..."

"Cas!" Dean barked into the receiver. "You listen to me, okay? Sammy and me are comin' to get ya. You hide yourself, you hear me?!"

Cas hauled up onto his feet and limped quickly to the treeline and found a niche in the trunk of a large oak. "Okay, Dean. I'm hidden..." He felt a sore spot in his throat that had never been there before. He swallowed hard to get rid of the feeling.

"Good. Now sit tight, we're on our way." The phone clicked and Castiel closed it, sighing. His whole body ached, but his back was the worst of it. Reaching back, he winced as he felt the skin, torn and bloody, shift to his movement. Pain shot through him in waves and he doubled over, choking on sobs. He had never been this helpless.

And what of his Grace? It seemed so distant and so weak that Castiel could only assume that he no longer had possession of it. Straining his mind, the angel tried to remember how he had fallen and who had taken his power. Yet his mind was weary and his physical state yearned for rest. And for the first time ever, Castiel felt compelled to sleep.

"Dammit, Dean!" Sam exclaimed as they peeled around the corner. "Lighten the foot a bit, would ya?"

Dean didn't reply, keeping his vivid green eyes on the road. He had only a few people left in this world and he was not about ready to lose another one. Cas was out there, hurt and from what the hunter could tell, scared. He definitely did not like the tone of voice the angel carried during their phone call.

Yankton was not far from Sioux Falls and the brothers made good time (mainly due to Dean's so-called 'reckless driving'.) The Winchesters reached the cemetery by nightfall and immediately, the elder Winchester let out a barking call. "Cas!"

There was no answer. "Dammit, Cas, where are you?"

Sam scanned the area near the forestry as Dean moved along the rows of headstones. After a few minutes, the younger brother called out. "Hey Dean! I found him!"

The hunter rushed over to where Sam was standing and he saw the angel, sleeping soundly, nestled into the trunk of the tree. It was not the best of hiding places, but judging by his wounds, he probably didn't have enough energy. He kneeled next to the slumbering angel, shaking his should lightly.

"Cas?" His voice was gruff and harsh, worry heavy in that one word.

Heavy lids lifted to reveal those intense blue eyes. Tears glistened in the corners, threatening to cascade down his cheeks. "Dean?" He asked, head cocking slightly. He shifted and yelped at the pain he had forgotten about.

"Don't move just yet!" Sam said, steadying the angel. "What happened, Cas?"

Blue eyes looked down. "I have been cast down, Sam."

Dean clasped his friend's shoulders, causing Castiel's eyes to meet his. "What do you mean, 'cast down'?"

Castiel sighed, giving his tears the freedom to roll down his cheeks. He leaned forward, pushing his forehead into Dean's chest. Before the hunter had time to ask or lecture about personal space, the soldier of heaven shrugged his coat off one arm and lifted the back of his shirt.

"My god..." Sam exclaimed.

There on his back, Castiel's wings had been ripped from his flesh and his Grace taken. He was human.

Just the prologue. Bobby takes over as Sam's hunting buddy as Dean helps Cas adjust to Human life. Destiel! 


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, it's setting or any characters. They belong to Eric Kripke.

Author's not: First Supernatural Fiction ever. Don''t judge me too harshly. Rated M for graphic sexual content. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Cas/Dean

...

_This ain't no sham._  
_I am what I am._

Castiel woke in immense pain as he shot up, off the couch.

"Whoa! Hold on there, cowboy!" Dean's voice brought the ex-angel back down to earth and he stilled, grimacing at the throbbing.

Looking around, he gathered his location. He was laying on Bobby Singer's couch, bandaged and cleaned. He must have been asleep while they tended his wounds. The hunter was crouched next to him, a hand on Cas' shoulder, reassuringly. Yet his back paled in comparison to what happened next.

Castiel stared into those green eyes, full of worry and anguish. Suddenly, he was hit with a different kind of pain. It was beyond foreign to him and he doubled over in choking sobs as his chest welled with a tight sensation. The angel felt as if the air had been pulled from his lungs.

"Cas! What the hell, man!?"

"Dean!" He managed after a few moments. "Dean...! What's... what's happening?!" His voice was brimming with panic with each rasping gasp.

Luckily for Dean, his brother had heard the commotion and stepped into the room. "He's hyperventilating!" He explained, pushing Dean out of the way. "Cup your hands, Cas. Breathe into them. Slowly now. There you go. You got it."

Castiel started to slow in his breathing but his tears didn't stop. They rolled down, unbidden and quiet. He felt anxious and injured and wanted nothing to do with any of it at that moment. Once Sam was content with his condition, the younger brother left the fallen angel alone with Dean, knowing that the elder Winchester would be able to coax an explanation from Castiel better than he.

Dean, meanwhile, returned to his friend's side, taking the smaller, pale hand into his own. "Cas? Cas, what happened back there?"

The smaller man shook his head, not wanting his voice to crack under the weight of his tears.

"Come on, man. You got to tell me! Maybe we can help you get your mojo back, but I gotta know what the hell threw you to the curb." Frustrated that the angel refused to look at him, he grabbed the stubbled chin and forced eye contact. "God..." He barely whispered. The angel's face was red and swollen from his weeping, eyes electric blue against the bloodshot whites. His chin trembled as his lips tightened, fighting to gain control.

"Dean.." Another shaking sob. "I can feel... it's too much... I feel too much, Dean...!" Cas drove the palms of his hands into his eyes, rubbing angrily as he tried to force the tears to stop. "I can't... I-I..."

"Dammit, Cas. It's okay." He shushed the broken creature as it wept. Gently, he placed a hand on the back of Castiel's neck, pulling the angel's forehead to his shoulder. "It's okay. We can talk about it tomorrow. You need to rest. We can deal with it later, I promise."

When he pulled away, Dean nearly gasped aloud. Castiel was looking up at him with the most desperate and lost expression the hunter had ever seen. His thin, dark brows were pulled up in helplessness. His blue eyes searching Dean's face, trying to find something he couldn't quite name; reassurance? Hope?

Dean's hand lingered at the base of that soft, dark brown hair. He pulled back quickly, however, as Bobby and Sam entered the living room. "So Feathers lost his feathers?" Castiel's gaze shot downward in shame at that and Dean glared at his surrogate father. The older hunter raised his hands in defense. "Now, don't get touchy. I'm only teasin'."

Sam looked down at his brother. "Well?" He asked expectantly.

Dean stood, letting the angel sink back into the couch. "His emotions are outta control, Sammy. We can't ask him anything right now. Let him sleep."

The younger Winchester raised a knowing brow, his ever sappy face distorted with concern. Dean felt a lecture coming on. "I think you need rest too, Dean. Bobby and I found a lead on some daemons near the area where we found Cas. Maybe we can find some answers. You stay here with Cas. Keep him safe."

Dean's gaze shifted to the now fast asleep angel, who was cuddling the pillow Dean had propped under his head to his body. Cas was clutching the pillow tightly, his eyes screwed shut in a frightened way. "Yeah..." He agreed as his head swayed. "I could use some sleep too, I guess."

Bobby and Sam said their goodbyes and headed out in Bobby's old truck. It wasn't until the sound of the shotty muffler has disappeared that Dean flung himself onto the old recliner, letting sleep claim him.

Castiel woke a second time on the couch. This time, his mind felt less hectic and he was able to take in what had happened. He fell. That's what happened. He shook his head, startled as he felt the ball form in his throat again. He coughed it away and stretched his aching body. The wounds on his back felt far less painful now and he sighed in relief. A small snort surprised him.

His eyes darted to the unconscious Dean on the chair beside him. Ever curious, he leaned closer the the slumbering hunter, inspecting the calm visage. Normally, Dean was fierce and determined; the lines of a hard life imprinted almost permanently on that tan forehead. But asleep, Dean was tranquil. Castiel reached out to touch the tips of the light brown hair that jutted out from the hunter's head. It was soft.

Dean stirred, opening one groggy green eye. He nearly flew back as he yelped (in a very manly way, mind you) when he was met by a far too close sapphire stare.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I did not mean to startle you."

The hunter was grasping at his chest. "Dammit, Cas! What have I told you about watching people sleep?" He asked, frustration in his tone. When he saw the angel's dejected look, his hands flew to thin, bare shoulders. "It's okay, Cas. Don't get upset. How are you feeling?"

The angel shrugged. "I suppose I feel better. At least, my wounds feel less painful." He looked up at his former charge, confusion heavy in his eyes. "But there is something... it's far more complicated. It feels like my chest is tight and there's a gripping sensation in my throat."

"That's your human feelings. They're a bit more intense than you and your angel buddies are used to." Dean explained. His hands remained around Cas' shoulders and he felt the heat rise behind his ears. "I should find new clothes for you. The old get up... well it's kind of torn and bloody."

Cas nodded and continued looking around, seeing the world through human eyes. Thing seemed so much brighter and he still couldn't control the fluttering and compressing emotions that raged a war between his head and stomach. The worst of it was when he stood and the dizziness nearly collapsed him.

Luckily Dean had already returned with fresh garments in time to catch the newly human Castiel before he could bash his head on a corner. "Whoa. Be careful walking for a while, kay? No need for you to face mortality just yet." He had meant it as joke but quickly scolded himself. You idiot... no need to remind him that he's a stinkin' human now! "Here are some clothes. They should fit."

Cas thanked him graciously and began pulling the worn jeans over his boxers. The pants were easy enough, but he could not swing the Led Zeppelin tee shirt over his shoulders without crying out in pain. The hunter pulled in on gently, easing the angel's arms into the sleeves. Last, he handed Castiel a greyish green jacket. "You can have this. It's my old one before my dad died and left me his. It's a bit small on me anyway."

He stepped back and looked Cas over. It was odd, really, how cute the fallen angel looked in almost too big hunting clothes. Cute?! He mentally added in the back of his mind. The jeans fit well enough, but the shirt that had been stretched by Dean's broad shoulders and back now hung loosely on Castiel's thinner, shorter frame. His clavicle peeked out from the collar and Dean found himself gulpling as his eyes trailed along the curve of the fragile bone.

"Is everything alright, Dean?" Cas asked, head tilted, blue eyes inquisitive.

Shaking out of his trance, the hunter nodded. "Umm yeah... I'm fine, Cas. Are you hungry?"

A loud rumble from the angel's midsection responded to the thought of food and Castiel nodded furiously. He followed his friend into the kitchen and took a careful seat at the table, wincing at the slight throbbing of his back.

"Looks like we have a few leftover burgers." Dean pulled them out of the fridge, along with two beers and plopped them on the table. He then retrieved a bag half full of potato chips and two plates. The hunter heated up the burgers in the microwave, keeping one eye on the angel at all times. Since they found him, Cas had been unstable and easily spooked. Dean did not want to see and Angel of the Lord shut down.

But his heart dropped at he pulled out the now steaming patty from the microwave. Castiel was not an angel. He was human now. He'd have to be careful with the damaged psyche. So he held off his questions and set the meal in front of his friend.

Castiel's face lit up at the smell of ground beef and mustard. He scooped up the sandwich and chomped down a gigantic bite. He looked up at the hunter, cheeks bulging with burger and frowned when his companion began to laugh. The befuddled expression that followed only made him laugh harder.

Dean wiped tears of mirth from the corner of his eye as he continued the chuckle. "You know, Cas? Angel or not, you're still just you."

...

Okay. I'm done for the night. Expect more on the morrow!


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, it's setting or any characters. They belong to Eric Kripke.

Author's not: First Supernatural Fiction ever. Don''t judge me too harshly. Rated M for graphic sexual content. If you don't like it, don't read it.

...

Cas/Dean

_We will run and scream. You will dance with me._  
_They'll fulfill our dreams and we'll be free._  
_We will be who we are. And they'll heal our scars._  
_Sadness will be miles away._

After a few days and quite a few awkward moments ("Dean? My lower stomach hurts." "Uh. You have to pee.") Castiel seemed little worse for wear. His wounds were healing well enough and he was able to make his own way around the house. These random disappearing acts caused the hunter to go into a panic a few times a day.

They had constructed several daemon traps and other precautions. Though his powers were gone, Cas still remembered the glyphs warding against angels. Even with all the security, Dean was not able to let Cas out of his sight for too long. The hunter would go to the bathroom or leave the room for a beer and return to an empty room. He'd rip around the house and end up outside, where he would find the angel staring at a tree or fascinated by a dew covered lawn.

"Dean, I am not a child." Castiel insisted on the third day as Dean led him by the elbow, back into the house.

"Yeah, well you ain't an angel, either. Add the fact that a bump to the back leaves you screaming in pain and you got a buffet for all the baddies out there! You can't wander off! You got me!?" Dean was yelling now, not realizing it. He turned around to see the dark haired head hung in shame. Castiel's shoulders shook slightly and the hunter's heart broke as he heard the sob escape from the smaller figure before him. "Cas... I... It's okay." He reached out, trying to comfort his friend.

When Cas stepped away from the hunter, Dean kicked himself for letting his temper fly. The angel held his right hand in a tight fist, close to his chest. "I am sorry, Dean. I won't leave the house again."

Dean sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "Listen, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to shout. You just gotta be careful, man." His voice softened as he leaned down to try and meet Castiel's downward gaze. Blue eyes drifted up to see brown freckled on bronze skin and green eyes smiling that arrogant, unabashed smile. "If you get lost, Sammy'll blame me."

Then Castiel did something that made the hunter's heart stammer. His sorrowful eyes that had been drooping for days lit up in a familiar, almost mischievous way. A small smirk tugged at the corner of those full lips. "I think you are quite capable of getting into trouble with Sam on your own." His snark was met with a tousle of dark hair as Dean Winchester basically ran from the room.

"Dean?"

"Bathroom emergency!" He yelped as he snapped the door shut. Dean grasped the sides of the marble sink, knuckles white. What the hell was wrong with him?! He must have sen that expression a thousand times and it had never had this effect on him. His ears burned and the hair on his arms stood at attention as this pit of his stomach flipped over.

He screwed his eyes shut, pushing the thought of Castiel's bright blue eyes from his mind. But it held fast and Dean felt his heart racing and the blood to his groin warmed and pooled as more colorful images of the angel floated through his mind.

.

Castiel, meanwhile, stared at the television screen. He was seated on the couch, knees to his chest; bare toes wiggling subconsciously from the hems of the over large jeans. He took in the smell of the fabric, his eyes fluttering shut at the scent. They smelled of scotch and motor oil; like the Impala. It smelled like Dean.

Ever since he had pulled the human from hell's pit, Cas drew closer to him. At first, it had been orders, a pre-ordained purpose. Then, the bond grew stronger, leaving Castiel to choose a side; find a loyalty. And almost without thinking, he fell into step with Dean Winchester. Dean was not Castiel's commander or boss, but he always seemed willing to do whatever the human asked of him. He was a friend.

But now that bond had changed even further. Cas couldn't seem to get the hunter from his mind. Every time he tried to focus on something else, that face would drift back into his vision. That soft, sand-colored hair; those emerald eyes twinkling in a secret joke. Suddenly, that knotted feeling in his chest returned and he took a few, slow breaths.

With habitual grace, he left the couch and walked into the library, leaving the television on again. Bobby Singer had a rare collection of manuscripts. Many, Castiel had seen before. Others eluded his current knowledge. As he moved from the supernatural genre, he spotted a few instruction manuals. His pale thumb traced over the bindings of the many motor vehicle books and he smiled. Dean loved cars.

He stopped however as he spotted a small collection of medical and botanical books. There were also a few volumes on cooking and basic survival skills. He pulled out a fair number of starter book and set the single, tall pile on the left side of the desk.

"Maybe if I learn how to ensure my own safety as a human, Dean won't become angry. After all, he runs off on his own all the time." With that feeling of resolution, he plucked the book off the top and flipped open to the first page.

.

Dean felt a bit dirty leaving the bathroom. It took a fair amount of time to calm his racing hormones and after fighting the war between a cold shower and self-satisfaction, his instincts chose the latter. Hopefully, Cas had remained downstairs for the entire time.

Fidgeting, he made his way to the living room to find it empty. Rolling his eyes angrily, he growled. "Dammit, you pain in the-"

"Dean, I'm inside the house." The low voice pierced the walls and he followed it into the library.

Dean barked out a laugh as he saw Bobby's precious desk subjected to a 'nerd typhoon.' Castiel had books lying over scrolls, lying over books, over notes, over journals and so on. The angel in question was leaning over a large hardbound book on poisonous and medicinal plant life. His blue eyes were wide as the scampered left to right, moving down a page faster than the hunter could imagine.

When Dean had entered, Cas looked up only for a moment. "Did you know that there are hundreds of tools that can be made from quartz alone? The sheer possibilities are extraordinary. And it only took your species a few hundred thousand years to perfect it."

"What's the use of a rock knife to a steel one?" Dean asked, lifting a book off the desk to view it's cover: Anatomy of the Human Body. "What are you doing with all this, Cas?"

The angel looked up again, head tilted to the side. "I know that you were only upset earlier because you were concerned. If I learn as much as I can, I will be prepared and you will worry less. Besides..." He hesitated. "Reading had helped me draw focus from this emotional issue I've been experiencing."

Dean sighed mentally. He was the last one that could help about emotional problems. Then again, everyone in his life wouldn't be much better. So he had to make due. "Can you describe the emotion that's got you all in a feathery twist?"

Cas shot an exasperated glare before answering. "I'm not sure. It's like..." He failed with a slight whimper, not being able to find the words. "Forget it. And should you lose your steel knife, Dean, knowing how to make a stone one could be useful."

The hunter's mouth fell open in a hurt and shocked expression. His witty retort was cut off as the door opened and two sets of footsteps entered the house. Sam's voice called from the living room. "Dean? Cas?"

Bobby entered the library first, tongue clicking at the mess on his desk. "I leave an angel in my house for three days and he rips my library all out of wack." He muttered.

"Dean!" Sam's voice called again. "You left the TV on!"

"But!" Came the stammering protests. "That wasn't-!" From behind the cover of the plant book, Dean saw those even eyebrows feign innocence and the hunter inwardly swore revenge.

...

Hey, guys! Thanks for the favorites and alerts!  
More to come soon.  
I'd love to hear what you think, too! Give me a review and lemme know!


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, it's setting or any characters. They belong to Eric Kripke.  
Also. Song belongs to Mumford and Sons.

Author's not: First Supernatural Fiction ever. Don't judge me too harshly. Rated M for graphic sexual content. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Cas/Dean

...

_Though I may speak some tongue of old._  
_Of even spit out some holy word._  
_I have no strength from which to speak._  
_When you sit me down and see I'm weak._

Castiel had been human for a week now. And in those seven days, he figured out there were things he loved about his new mortal senses and there were things he hated.

For example, Cas loved coffee and sweets. Besides his burger obsession, he'd taken to reading many cookbooks and found that desserts were his specialty. He also loved the smell of an old book; the way the pages were both rough and soft at the same time. After sifting through much of the library, he focused on what the team now lacked. He was keen to learn medicine and how to suture a wound. Also, he found the survival books the most intriguing. When he brought it up to Dean, he asked if the hunter could help him in a real world sense. But he was brushed off, told that he would need to recover before even thinking about it.

Then there were the things he hated. The most infuriating thing being shoes. As an angel, he never noticed what he was wearing. Nothing was particularly 'uncomfortable.' But now that he was human, Castiel preferred (quite adamantly) to be barefoot. Dean tried to fight him on it, but all he could manage were loose boots. Cas also found that not being able to transport himself quickly was quite frustrating. The idea that when the Winchesters went hunting, he couldn't be there in a blink of and eye anymore. And when Dean prayed to him, how would he hear it as a mortal?

There it was again: that tight chest, swollen with an unknown pressure. At first, he ignored the onslaught of emotions. Regardless of his efforts, however, those repressed feelings would bubble whenever Dean chuckled at a joke or smiled at him. His whole body felt inflated and his face burned hot. Was he ill?

But after a week, Castiel found himself on the lawn, sitting cross-legged in front of a lily. He had read that plants required carbon dioxide and that humans expel that same gas when breathing. So he had taken to talking to various plants around the yard.

He was enjoying the sunlight on his face and the mist of early morning on his nose. Looking down at the flower, Cs smiled brightly. "Good morning, my little friend." He greeted, bending to plant a soft kiss on a petal. "I am glad it is damp today. You should have plenty of sustenance."

As if it responded to his care, the lily swayed in the wind, leaning up towards the fallen angel.

He laughed as his hair flew around his ears. Now that he was mortal, his vessel's hair and fingernails grew faster. He kind of liked how his hair felt between his fingers; just another wonder of mortality. You learn to appreciate every little wonder.

"Dean'll bust your ass if he catches you out here barefoot." A gruff voice sounded behind him. Cas turned to see Bobby standing there with his hands in his pockets, raising a brow. "You talkin' to a flower, Feathers?"

The fallen angel frowned and turned back to his nicer friend.

"Aw now, don't get pissy." Bobby scolded. The veteran hunter sat next to Cas, looking at the angel's flower friend. "I was just teasing. How ya feeling?"

Castiel stared at him woefully before stroking the damp grass. "I'm fine." He stated quietly, never wanting to burden his human friends.

"Bullshit." He replied quickly. "You ain't fine. You went from kicking ass with super strength and poppin' in and out, scarin' the bejeezus outta us to bein' just like us. That's gotta take a toll. Ya gotta be feelin' all sorts of stuff yer not used to."

Cas twirled a blade of grass between his fingers, careful not to harm the little plant. "I'm not sure. I've been figuring out most of these new sensations. I learned that I have a much more precise opinion on things like taste and smell. I know that Sam is my friend and that you are like a mentor to them. But, there is one..." He trailed off, staring intently at the ground, feeling the heat rising in his neck.

"One ya haven't managed to find in a book?" Bobby asked, starting to put a few pieces together. He and Sam had taken over field work. But in the small time he spent at the house, he'd noticed a few oddities. Like how whenever Dean thought no one was watching, he would stare at Cas. The eldest hunter could quite tell what part of the angel he was staring at, but it was somewhere between his chest and chin. Also, Cas had his own embarrassing moments. His were far more noticeable, not knowing how to hide a blush whenever Dean was too close. "Wanna take a stab at it then?" He asked, hoping the angel would figure it out without having it spelled out. Lord knows, Bobby Singer didn't need to 'have the talk' with a celestial being.

Castiel huffed, annoyed at facing this unpleasant situation. "Well, it's like I'm drowning, but there's no water. I can't breathe or talk. And I feel warm and hazy."

"And lemme guess, it's brought on by a specific person?"

Cas looked up, shocked at the man's amused expression. "How?"

"Yer smitten, Cas." At the head tilt, he clicked his tongue, exasperated. "Do I really gotta go through this. Do angels mate?"

He thought for a moment. "Well, we find a certain kind of companionship that is exclusive to a single being. But it's not for reproduction."

"And do ya get nervous trying to find this companion?"

"I wouldn't know. I was always quite focused with my job and being a soldier was paramount." He explained. "Why? Is this emotion part of human mating?"

"I think this is something you should talk to Dean about." He offered. "It sounds about at tense as it looks and I gotta say, I'm sick of watchin' you two fairies dance around each other. Buck up, Feathers. Oh and Cas? You wanna stand a chance? Makin 'im a pie." He clapped a hand on Cas' shoulder, leaving the fallen angel to his own thoughts.

.

Dean pulled a beer out of the fridge and popped it open. It was cool and refreshing down his parched throat. After a week of taking care of Cas, he had let up on his vigilance. Well, he had tried at least. The hunter still couldn't help but check in on the angel at any given opportunity. But right now, he was intent on trusting Cas not to wander off.

His happy me time was disrupted by his monstrously large younger brother. "Hey there, Sasquatch. What's up?" He asked, relaxed.

Sam raised a brow. "What? Not running off to see if Cas has gotten himself trapped in a ditch, surrounded by vamps?"  
Dean's face turned to horror. "What?! Have you seen vamps hee!? Where's Cas?!"

Sam grabbed his brother's arm tightly, rooting him to his spot. "Relax. It was a joke, Dean. We've got this place locked down. What I'm more worried about is you."

"Me?" Dean asked incredulously. Scoffing, he swigged his beer. "I am a-okay, Sammy. Why?"

Sam let out a dismissive laugh before countering. "Well, I guess I'm worried about the fact that you can't seem to go two second without checking on Cas."

"He's hurt and mortal. All of his ace up the sleeves are powered by angel mojo. Now he's fresh out." He explained, shrugging. He didn't get why his brother was worrying so much.

"Okay, fair enough. But what about the staring him up and down when he's not looking?"

Nearly spitting out his beer, the elder Winchester cursed himself. How could he let himself get distracted. And of course, Sam is a big enough bitch to notice something. Trying to recover, he whirled around. "You're seeing things, Sammy."

The younger hunter was about to reply when Bobby interrupted by saying: "Dean? Your angel's out there with no shoes."

"Dammit, Cas!" And he charged past his brother.

Bobby's brow line rose as he looked at Sam.

...

Cranking them out!  
I'm running with this one and enjoying it. I always thought Cas to be very in tune with nature. He seems to like forests and reserves when meeting with angel buddies.  
Please review to tell me what you think! Thank you!


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, it's setting or any characters. They belong to Eric Kripke.  
Also. Song belongs to Mumford and Sons.

Author's not: First Supernatural Fiction ever. Don't judge me too harshly. Rated M for graphic sexual content. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Cas/Dean

...

_As we walked trough fields of green._  
_'Twas the fairest sun I'd ever seen._  
_Well I was broke. I was on my knees._  
_And you said "yes" as I said "please."_

Cas was talking to his Lily friend as he heard the screen door snap against its frame. Sure enough, Dean was barking as he strode across the grass, boots in hand. "Cas!" He was yelling, face serious and worried. He reached the fallen angel and glared down at him. "What are you doing out here?"

Castiel looked up at him, blue eyes wide and innocent. "I was merely tending to the many botanical beings who dwell here. They clearly don't get enough attention from you." He had meant it as all three men but Dean didn't take it that way. "I'm within the safe borders and within eyesight of the house." He assured, gesturing around.

Dean crossed his arms. "Without any shoes?" He asked, holding the boots up with one hand. "It's wet out here. You could catch a cold."

"It's warm out, Dean. I'll be fine." He tried to calm the hunter, standing to his feet gracefully. He faced Dean and placed his hands on the man's crossed arms, smiling. "If it were too cold, I'd come back inside."

"And if you step on a nail or some half-buried car part?" Dean countered, determined to win this argument.

Cas smiled brighter. "Then I would wash it out with salted water and dress it in gauze. I'm learning a lot, Dean. You needn't worry so much about me. I know how it upsets you."

Dean's stomach flipped. "Cas. It's not your fault. It's just, I don't have many close friends, if you haven't noticed. And those I get close to, tend to get killed. I can't bear that happening to you. I really can't, Cas."

The angel felt the warmth return to his face, but this time it was pleasant; accompanied by a fluttering in this torso that radiated to his toes. The way those green eyes twinkled in the sunlight, freckles popping off the boyish face. He realized his hands still rested on Dean's arms and withdrew quickly.

"Just put the boots on, okay?" The hunter held out the footwear, not meeting Cas' gaze. His face was more pinkish than usual.

"Dean? Are you alright?" The angel reached out, pressing the back of his hand against Dean's forehead; eyes brimming with concern. "You're flushed."

Backing away, the human shoved the shoes into Castiel's arms. "I'm fine, Cas."

He looked doubtfully at his friend before letting it go and changing the subject. "Dean? What's your favorite flavor of pie?"

.

Sam gazed out of the living room window as his brother scolded the barefoot angel. Chuckling, the hunter shook his head at the display. It had been painfully obvious to him from the beginning that Dean and Cas shared a bond. And he watched as those threads fortified and strengthened, turning into one of the most cohesive relationships a hunter could ask for.

Castiel responded to every call Dean made. And if he didn't, it was against the angel's will. Even now that Sam and Cas had gotten over their initial snag, the Soldier of Heaven was keen to keep Dean the closest; selflessly risking it all for the sake of one man's word.

"What ch'ya thinkin' about, boy?" Bobby asked. "Spyin' on our little princess and his angel?" He joined his adoptive son by the window and smirked as Cas pulled the boots Dean brought him onto his feet, a patented pout plastered on his fair face.

"It's like a vomit inducing chick-flick." Sam commented, making a face but smiling in spite of it. He wanted his brother to be happy, after all. And Sam had never seen Dean laugh the way he does when Cas is around. He just seemed more relaxed and confident with the angel behind him.

But now the dynamic had changed and Castiel was no longer an Angel of the Lord. The young man felt a pang of empathy for his friend. Dean always held the angel in a high regard, relying on him for impossible feats. Now, Cas was a mortal being and very much on the small side. Sam sighed, measuring up Castiel, the human.

Jimmy Novak was a thin man, small and lean. Even though he had no more Grace in the angelic power sense, Castiel was certainly dexterous; moving almost in a gliding manner, his head never bobbing as he walked to the treeline with the elder Winchester. Perhaps, he could use his size and agility as an advantage. Even if he couldn't fight well anymore, Sam learned that human Cas was useful in many other ways. He had been buried in books for most of the past week, studying as much as he could. Already, their medicine cabinet was filled with organic, home made remedies and balms.

But most of all, Castiel could cook. Damn, could he cook. And the more he cooked, the more Bobby seemed inclined to buy groceries. From chicken to fish to beef, Cas mastered them all. Sam wondered how the angel found time for all of his activities but he quickly realized that he may be trying to keep his mind off deeper issues.

"So." Bobby started. "How's that research going? Got any leads on how Cas could have lost his feathers?"

The young hunter shook his head. "Angelic lore is hard to find. Plus, sifting through the nonsense takes time."

Bobby sighed heavily. "Well if cupid remembers anything, he ain't talkin'."

Sam shrugged, turning away from the window. "We could go and get some field work done. I found a bag and burn case about a day's ride from here. It could give those two some time to figure out all this tension."

"Yeah, I'm chokin' on it too." He gave the pair outside one more long look before continuing. "I gotta feelin' Feathers ain't gunna talk to no one but Dean on the matter. We might as well get some work done." He agreed and they started packing an arsenal.

.

Cas carefully placed the pie plate into the oven, positioning it perfectly in the center before closing the door. Bobby and Sam had left an hour earlier to chase a ghost. Dean seemed a bit off put with being left behind but conceded as Castiel appeared by his side. Once the kitchen was clear and the timer was set, the fallen angel tip toed to the kitchen door and peered into the living room.

Dean was slouched on the couch, beer in hand and Dr. Sexy MD to distract him. Cas smirked and silently strode to the outside door and without a single sound, slipped outside into the twilight.

Castiel had decided that he loved all the times of day. From midnight to dawn; from noon to dusk, he found them equally and differently beautiful. The contrast of light, fragmented across the sky, lighting it with fiery colors. This twilight was cool and clouded. The moon was rising slowly, its waxing face bright behind the wispy clouds.

The angel found his way to his favorite spot, the grass cool and crunchy under his naked toes. He took in the scent of the nearby forest and smiled. Twirling around, he nestled into the gnarly trunk of the largest oak on the property, legs crossed. It was a comfortable spot; the tree hugged his back, aligning it perfectly straight. He rested his hands on his knees and took in a slow, easy breath.

He loved to meditate outside. It always seemed easier to connect inward when he was surrounded by the noise of the earth.

The smell his Dean's nostrils like a seductive perfume. He imagined himself as Bugs Bunny, being lifted by the delicious aroma of apple pie. He stood and strode into the kitchen, smiling. "Heya, Cas. Why ya sitting in-." He cut short when he was greeted by an empty room. Looking up at the door to the back yard, he frowned to see it unlocked.

He growled something about putting a "damn bell" on the door as he made for the exit, stopping as his hand rested on the knob. Castiel was leaning against a tree, looking positively serene. Sighing, he turned around and walked away, stopping at the stairs.

When he reached the room he and Sam shared as children, he smiled at how much the same it looked. The window looked over the entire back yard and he could see the fallen angel perfectly from the dark room. He didn't want Cas to know he was spying on him. (The angel would definitely disapprove.) So he kept quiet and watched at the setting sun cast a ray across the yard, bathing it in purples and pinks. The clouds were thickening as the moon rose.

Castiel seemed peaceful in his little spot. It was refreshing to Dean's mind. The fallen angel had a few restless nights, nightmares plaguing his sleep. Dean found himself at his friend's side, holding the smaller frame close to him, urging the fears away.

So Dean was content to watch over the one who had done the same for him for so many years. His hand went to the scar on his shoulder. It was the print Castiel had made when he dragged Dean's sorry ass out of the pit. It burned under his fingers as he watched an orange butterfly flutter over to his meditating angel.

The winged creature made its way delicately to bounce off of Castiel's nose. The fair face scrunched up and giggled as he opened one eye. S the butterfly danced around him, he was soon laughing aloud with such merriment, Dean was floored. He licked his lips, wondering if Cas would react the same way should he kiss that straight nose.

He pushed that thought quickly away as he heard the timer go off annoyingly. Castiel stood from his spot and glided across the lawn and Dean made his way back to the living room.

They met in the kitchen as Cas was pulling the pie from the oven. Dean beamed as the scent filled the room, permeating the air. The hunter let out a low moan as he sat at the table.

"You'll have to wait, Dean. This is sure to cause harm to your mouth, should you eat it now." Cas warned as he set the pie on the stove and plopped the mitts on the counter. Turning, he smiled. "I'm proud of you, Dean."

The hunter gave his friend a confused and innocent look. "What are you talking about?" He asked, truly not getting Cas' point.

"I left the light on in the kitchen for a reason. I saw you almost come out to yell at me. But you didn't. Thank you."

Dean was floored. He was sure Cas had his eyes closed in meditation the entire time. "I have not been yelling at you, Cas. Don't be a baby." At the apprehensive brow raise, he sighed in defeat. "I don't mean to yell, you know that."

"You've also been avoiding me."

"What?! Now you're acting loopy." Dean scoffed. "How can I avoid you when I'm constantly chasing you away from broken glass or saving you from falling off the library stool?"

Castiel sighed, aggravated at Dean's evasive behavior. "That is not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean, Cas? Because, I gotta say, I've been tryin' here, man. You won't tell me anything. You wake up at midnight, screaming and you won't even spill what you dreamed." He growled, now thoroughly annoyed. "Dammit, Cas!"

He stood to leave, forgetting the pie on the stove. But he froze as he saw the tear stained face before him. "Cas?" He asked, moving forward. When the angel recoiled, he reached out like a flash and grabbed the thin wrist before Cas could glide away.

Castiel wanted to struggle as he was being pulled closer into Dean's embrace but failed, merely whimpering. As he pressed his face into the AC/DC shirt, he inhaled the scent of it. A strong arm held him fast by the middle of his back. The other hand pulled at his chin gently, forcing him to lock eyes.

"Cas. You gotta talk to me, man. You can't keep it all in. Please?" He asked quietly.

Cas thought his chest was going to explode as he was forced to look deep into emerald eyes flowing with fear and worry. He couldn't bear it much longer. "Dean..." He started, placing his hands softly on that broad chest. "You make it... difficult..." His lungs failed him and he struggled with each word, dizzy from the warmth of the embrace.

"What?" He asked, a bit hurt. Was he hurting Cas? He wondered, worried that he was causing this pain. But something clicked as those lidded sapphires gazed back up heavily, a bright flush overcoming his features and Dean knew what he was doing to this fallen angel.

He smirked. "Cas? Did you make me pie to seduce me?" He asked bluntly.

The angel's blush brightened to a cherry red and he nearly jumped out of the hunter's arms, but Dean held fast. "Dean... that's not... not what I...-" He was cut off as his companion leaned forward, filling the gap.

Resting his forehead against Cas', he relished in the haggard breathing comeing from the smaller form in his arms. "Bravo, Cas." He complimented before capturing those lips in a heated, overdue kiss. He moved his lips against Castiel's slowly, encouraging him to follow suit.

Cas caught on quickly and flung his arms around the strong, tan neck, pulling them closer. He tilting his head slightly to get a better access as his hips are pulled roughly against Dean's. Cas moaned into Dean's mouth and felt the other smirk against his lips.

When the need for air drove them apart, Cas mewled disapprovingly, missing the contact. Dean chuckled and pecked Cas on the lips. "Pie first. Grope later." At the work 'grope,' he reached down and gave Catiel's backside a firm squeeze, loving the way Cas arched closer to Dean.

"Dean!"

…..  
PIE!  
Review, please!


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, it's setting or any characters. They belong to Eric Kripke.  
Also. Song belongs to Mumford and Sons.

Author's not: First Supernatural Fiction ever. Don't judge me too harshly. Rated M for graphic sexual content. If you don't like it, don't read it.

...

Cas/Dean

_This ain't no sham. I am what I am._  
_And I leave no time for a cynic's mind._

Castiel groaned, his stomach shifting horribly. From next to him, Dean let out a similar noise patting his bungling stomach. "Damn, Cas, your cooking is dangerous." He commented.

Cas nodded, extremely uncomfortable. "I don't think we were intended to eat the entire thing at once." He replied, curling into the hunter's side.

Dean smiled his smug, sleepy smile as he wrapped an arm around the angel's back, enjoying the warmth. "Worth it." He managed before letting out a long belch. When Cas let out a soft chuckle, he snuggled closer. The fallen one let his hand draw circles all over the taut stomach. Before he knew what was happening, Dean felt a small but strong hand wriggle under his backside and rest there between his ass the the cushion.

Dean looked down at Castiel who wore the most wide-eyed, false innocent expression he could muster. The hunter gasped as the hand squeezed for a long moment.  
"You were the one who said 'pie first.'" He reminded.

.

Over the next few days, Dean learned a great many things; succulent evil things, that it. He first learned that he loved kissing. It elated him, sending his stomach into loop-di-loops. He especially love kissing Cas. Being with a lot of women, Dean had begun to tire of the endless streams of one-night stands. Now, that new feeling of excitement thrilled him. He'd take every advantage of a situation to capture those pink lips between his own. His favorite was to sneak up on the angel meditating (that being the biggest challenge.)

The second thing he learned is that Castiel the human is very, very ticklish. The morning after the night of pie, Dean woke on the couch. Well, more accurately, he woke on Cas on the couch. The angel was cradling the hunter's head against his chest, Dean's arms around his waist. The Winchester smirked and leaned in to kiss the skin at Cas' shoulder. In an effort to wake is slumbering friend, Dean gently shook him by the hip bone. "Cas? Wake up." But instead of a groggy response, the hunter was met with loud giggles and a convulsing Cas.

The most interesting thing Dean grew to love, however was what hadn't changed. Regardless of his making a very adamant proclamation against all shoes everywhere, many things about Castiel's person very much stayed the same; like the way his head tilted when he was confused or trying to think. He'd look at a book like that and Dean couldn't help but plant a kiss on the mop of dark hair. His favorite food was still cheeseburgers and Castiel never stopped watching Dean. He'd be as protective of the hunter as the hunter was of him, scolding him whenever he received a cut or bruise while working in the salvage yard.

But the most frustrating thing Dean found was that if Castiel was set on an idea, he would mercilessly harass whatever stood in is way. For example, the angel had the nutty idea that he had to learn how to take care of himself, outside the safety of Bobby's house. Dean was not okay with it.

"But Deeeean." The angel whined, hanging off the strong bicep of the hunter's arm. "You can come with me, if you must. But I think I need to learn things about being a hunter. Knowing how to survive in the woods is essential. How many times have you been trapped in the woods?"

Dean sighed, looking down at the pleading blue eyes. "Cas. Your still hurt. I know you're restless and so am I, but you gotta relax."

"What if you were there to help? Then you could fight off any attack that may occur." He pleaded, wishing that the green-eyed hunter would just give in. In the past week, he realized that Dean was more likely to listen and cave if Cas widened his eyes and gazed for long enough. He'd been at the hunter's side for three days, trying.

"No." Was the quick and final response and Dean made his way way into the kitchen for some hunter's helper. Castiel had not shut his pie hole for twenty hours straight and he was ready to snooze on his own two feet. The burn of the whisky shook him out of a drowsy stupor and he looked around.

The house seemed cleaner since Cas fell. He only assumed it was the obsessive soldier side to the angel. Shrugging, Dean took his whiskey in hand and entered the library, hoping to work or get some shut eye.

Castiel was in Bobby's chair, bare toes wiggling against the desk top. He looked up from his reading only for a moment to glare at the hunter. Dean put on a defensive look, not having the energy to humor his friend. "Don't look at me like that." He snapped.

Blue eyes threw daggers. "I did not look at you in any way." He replied.

Dean snorted in amusement. "Really?" He asked sarcastically. "You don't know it, Cas, but that stone mask is gone, man. You can't hide much about how you feel anymore. I can tell when you're pissed, happy, depresses. Hell, I even know your 'burger look.' And you've got Sam's patented bitch face on. You may even owe him some rights on that on." He took another drink from the bottle.

Cas continued glaring for a moment before the hunter let out a long yawn. Clicking his tongue in defeat, the angel (as he has done so many times in the past) pushed his own welfare and desires aside. He stood, leaving the large book on the desk.

Dean was mildly surprised and a bit defensive when the angel placed a gentle hand on his arm. Bt when he looked down and saw those blue eyes gushing with concern and sympathy, he relaxed. "Wait, I thought you were pissed?" His tone was joking as he reached up to stroke the dark stubble forming on Castiel's jaw.

He was answered with a long, serious look. "Well I believe your fatigue is more important than my desires. The emotion associated with that issue can be dealt with later."

The hunter chuckled, pulling Cas into a long embrace. "Talk about compartmentalizing."

Castiel pulled away, smiling. "Come along, Dean. I think you need some sleep." He said at another yawn.

"Well who's fault it that?" Dean countered.

He gently tugged at the hunter's wrist, leading him into the living room. He pulled Dean to the couch, urging him to lay his head on the angel's chest.

Dean snuggled happily into the cotton of his old tee shirt, taking in a new scent. It smelled like grass and pine; apples and something else he couldn't name. He was sent into a comfort of unimaginable heaven as thin, soft fingers made their way around his scalp, toying with his sandy blond hair. The green-eyed hunter looked up at his angel for a moment. Gathering the rest of his strength, he pushed himself an inch away from Cas and leaned up to capture those soft lips in his own.

The fallen angel gasped into this kiss before relaxing into it, head buzzing in the warmth. He placed his hand on the arm where his mark had already been made. Cas felt Dean shudder at the contact.

Dean groaned as he pried his face away from Castiel's, wishing he wasn't so damn exhausted. But he settled with the extraordinary head massage. "So you've dropped this whole camping thing?" He asked groggily.

"Oh heavens, no. I'm just going to wait till Bobby and Sam get home and appeal to them."

Dean groaned into the angel's chest, blushing at the soft chuckling above his head.

...

Woo! Will Sam and Bobby be evil and insist on a romantic camping trip for Dean and Cas? We'll see...

Thanks so much for the kind words! It encourages me to write.


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, it's setting or any characters. They belong to Eric Kripke.  
Also. Song belongs to Mumford and Sons.

Author's not: First Supernatural Fiction ever. Don't judge me too harshly. Rated M for graphic sexual content. If you don't like it, don't read it.

...

Cas/Dean

_We will run and scream._  
_You will dance with me._  
_They'll fulfill our dreams and we'll be free._  
_And we will be who we are._  
_And they'll heal our scars._  
_Sadness will be miles away._

Dean was woken from his warm and comfortable slumber when he felt a pillow smack against his head. As his eyes struggled to open, he heard a gruff voice above him. "Well, ain't this cute?"

The hunter shot up, off the still sleeping Cas. Bobby stood there, Sam smirking behind him, with his hands in his pockets, giving Dean a Bobby smile. Instantly, his hands took a defensive position. "We fell asleep watching a movie." He blurted out the first excuse he could find.

Sam snorted, plopping his bag on the ground. "Then who turned off the TV?" He asked, pointing at the blank screen.

Feeling the heat fill his face, Dean stomped away, shutting the screen door with a snap.

Cas stirred and sat up, rubbing sleep from his eye. "What's wrong?" He asked, looking up. "Bobby? Sam? Where's Dean?" He asked, now looking about the room.

"Hey there, sleepin' beauty." Bobby greeted the angel. "The princess is throwin' a hissy. He went to the yard."

Castiel thanked him and followed the hunter outside. He found Dean next to the oak that the angel loved to meditate next to. He was leaning his shoulder against the bark, staring into the forest.

"Dean?" Castiel asked tentatively, sensing the other man's frustration.

Dean didn't turn. "Yeah, Cas?"

The angel heard the light-hearted tone and relaxed. Reaching out, he placed a hand on the hunter's arm. He felt his friend flinch and Cas frowned, not enjoying this new emotion. He pulled away quickly, not wanting to upset Dean further. "Are... are you alright?"

The hunter must have noticed Castiel's discomfort because he faced the angel, catching the smaller hand in his own warm one. "I'm not mad at you." He reassured, hoping that his embarrassment didn't hurt his friend. Relief filled those blue eyes and Dean sighed. He stepped forward, filling the gap between them and enveloped Cas in a tight hug.

"So..." Castiel started after a few moments. Dean pulled back, an inquisitive look on his face. Hesitating in his nervousness, the angel asked, "You aren't ashamed of me?"

Then the green-eyed hunter laughed one of his genuine laughs, mirthful and young. "Oh, Cas, you stupid bastard." He looked up at the house and smirked. "See them over there?" He asked.

Cas turned his head to see Bobby and Sam's shadows in the window. "Yes?" He responded, not quite sure what Dean was getting at. Before he could ask further, a strong hand urged his chin upward and full, warm lips fell onto his own, holding them there firmly. The angel of Thursday felt the warmth of a blush creeping up his neck as Dean's free arm pulled his thin waist closer. Castiel relaxed only to have his hunter pull away, keeping the angel firm and in place in his arms.

"Does that answer your question?"

A wicked gleam shone in those sapphire orbs as Cas tilted his head as he had done so many times before and plastered a confused expression across his fair features. "Perhaps you can explain further?"

"Evil, evil angel."

.

When they came back inside, they were proudly hand in hand. Sam gave them a bright smile as if he had been rooting for it the whole time. Bobby shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. "Glad you could take your head outta your ass, boy."

"Bite me." He spat back. He picked up the half empty beer on the side table and inspected it carefully as Cas made his way into the kitchen. Shrugging he took a long gulp as his brother made a face. "How was the job?"

"Easy enough. Your idjit brother near got us killed, though." Bobby replied, nonchalant. "What about you? Learn anything new? I mean, anything that ain't about how to seduce an Angel of the Lord."

Dean shook his head. "Nah. He's been a clam about the whole thing. Any time I ask, he gets all mopey or he changes the subject to one you sure as hell don't wanna have."

"I'm not gunna ask..."

Dean's hands flew up quickly, shushing the older man. "Sh sh!" He was whispering, glancing nervously at the kitchen door. "If you love me, Bobby, you will never ask."

As if he had been listening, Castiel appeared in the doorway. "That reminds me: Bobby, may I have a word?"

The old hunter looked from Cas to Dean and then back to Cas. "I suppose." He caved, knowing he'd be pulled into whatever tiff the two love birds were having. Dean made to follow his uncle but the angel cut him off at the door, blocking his entrance.

"Privately."

The door shut with a snap in front of Dean's hanging jaw. When Sam started laughing behind him, he flung a book at the giant. "Shut it, Sammy!"

After thirty-five minutes of discussion, the door opened and Castiel stood face to face with Dean, an eager look on his face. He looked past the angel and at Bobby. "What ever he said is wrong, Bobby!" He begged. "He is not nearly ready-"

"He's ready enough!" Bobby cut him off. "Listen, Dean. I know you get over protective." (Dean scoffed. "Yeah, right.") "But Feathers here is right. If his stitches can come out, he's well enough to learn what it's like to be like the rest of us. He could use your help with it, if you're not gunna be a pansy about it."

Dean scowled in defeat.

Cas gave him and apologetic look, causing the hunter to crumble with forgiveness. "Fine. Tomorrow, Cas, we will go and I will show you how to be a hunter."

The angel nearly squealed as he launched himself forward, wrapping Dean's waist in a hug. Dean nearly fell over, but wrapped his arms around Cas, smiling.

Bobby blushed at the sight and rolled his eyes. "Alright, you can find another place for your smooching..."

Dean considered those words and after clearly coming to a conclusion, he leaned down, lifted the small man up and onto his shoulder. He felt his head flood at the little squeak from Cas. The hunter then headed through the kitchen and out the door.

"Dean!" Cas exclaimed, laughing. "Dean, I am capable of walking."

"Yeah, but you'll walk all slow and thoughtful. I do not have time for that." He replied, reaching the oak tree. He walked around the trunk and set the angel down, back against the tree. Castiel's toes barely touched ground before his mouth was ravished. A gasp escaped his lips as Dean pressed his well muscled body against his own, pinning him to the bark.

The hunter buried one hand in the unkempt, dark hair as his other arm held Castiel by the waist, lifting the angel's heels off the ground. Dean left the soft lips, leaving a trail of kisses along the stubbled jaw and nips down his neck. His jeans tightened at the mewling sounds coming from the angelic mouth. Cas had one arm around the tan neck, anchoring him while his other hand grasped the mark on Dean's arm; Castiel's bond.

The hunter growled low into the soft skin between the clavicle and neck, loving the whimpering moans he was extracting from this beautiful creature. But he nearly lost it when his angel's low voice, harsh with desire, escaped in a desperate "Dean!"

Involuntarily, Dean's hip bucked forward, his own desire pressing against Cas'. Trying to gain a bit of composure, he pulled back to check his work.

Castiel was disheveled and positively delicious; hair mussed more than usual, eyes heavily lidded and pupils blown wide. His breath came in short gasps as he groaned from the loss of contact. Pushing down his initial fears, Dean reached down and squeezed the bulge in Castiel's borrowed jeans. The blue eyes flew open wide. "Dean!"

A fire sparked in the hunter's chest and he leaned in close to the angel's ear, whispering heavily, "Say it again."

Ever willing to bend to any command given by those green eyes, Castiel smiled and leaned his head back, exposing his throat. "Dean..." It was low and deliberate.

Dean moaned as he attacked the flesh of that pale neck, biting, kissing and sucking. The hand that still held Castiel's groin worked deftly to undo the button and zipper before slipping into the fabric. Cas arched into the touch, mewling all the while. "Dean! Oh Dean, please!" He begged in a strangled whisper. It took sweet virgin Cas little time to release, biting into Dean's shoulder.

After riding out the high of an orgasm, Castiel looked up into emerald pools and smiled. As that smile transformed into a smirk, he spun them around and pressed Dean against the tree. The hunter raised a brow but understood the moment Cas dropped to his knees, coming face to face with his throbbing erection.

"Cas?" He asked, wondering if he was rushing this.

The angel only smiled at he unbuttoned Dean's pants and pulled them past his hips. "Relax, Dean. I remember this from a movie." Then he took Dean into his mouth all at once.

The hunter gasped as he felt the head of his cock hit the back of the angel's throat. "Shit, Cas!" He choked out.

He felt Castiel smile around him as he began moving up and down the shaft, using one hand to stroke the base. Dean gripped the tree with desperation, bucking forward into that wet mouth. If Cas learned this from a movie, then he truly was a genius. He came with a shudder and a low moan ripped through his chest.

"I love you, Castiel."

...

Oh. My. God.  
It's bedtime.


End file.
